Footsoldiers
by dietcokechic
Summary: Another day, another unscheduled offworld activation. Stan, Mario and their squad are ready for anything. Or are they?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Footsoldiers Part 1: The First Day  
**Authors:** Redbyrd and dietcokechic  
**Email Addresses**: redbyrd (at) mindspring (dot) com , dietcokechic (at) hotmail (dot) com  
**Spoiler:** 113 - Hathor  
**Rating:** PG-13 (language)  
**Category:** humor, missing scene  
**Summary: **Two airmen report for their first day of duty at Cheyenne Mountain.

**Author's Musings:** A long, long time ago, Redbyrd and I started exchanging emails. She liked my Barista stories, and I loved her space shuttle ones (after you finish this fic, you MUST check them out). Both are written from an outsider's POV, and we started brainstorming other third party POV scenarios. Well, one thing led to another and before we knew it, we had begun collaborating on a series of vignettes, told from the point of view of your average airmen at the SGC.  
You can only imagine what those guys must go through... smile

Read, smile, and if you enjoy -- let us know!

-------------------------------

Mario shuffled out of the briefing room with the other new guards, clutching the slips of paper with their new duty assignments. "I'm still looking around for the candid camera," Mario heard one guy mutter behind him. The tall lanky man standing next to him snorted softly in agreement.

Mario grinned at him. "Believe it. Uncle Sam doesn't take too kindly to jokes. Leastwise this'd be the first time I ever saw it."

The other man nodded. "Y'know, I always thought that conspiracy crap was just that- crap. I'm gonna have to start reading the Weekly World News again."

"Doubt we'll find any copies of it in the commissary," Mario said.

"After the briefing we just had? I don't think anything would surprise me! He leaned over and compared his slip to the other. "Looks like we're on the same team. I'm Stan Jones."

Mario stuck out a hand. "Ramirez, Mario." Stan shook the offered hand firmly. It was nice to know the name of at least one person in this place. "Any idea where we're going?" Mario asked. Both men studied the slips.

"Level 28, report to Sergeant Harrison," Jones read aloud. They moved to the elevator, and had their ID checked (for the fourth time that morning). Jones continued as the elevator sank- and then sank a bunch more. "This is weird man," he said eyeing the steadily increasing numbers. "It's just wrong to work 28 floors _under_ the surface."

"Yeah, well according to my little brother, the lowest level of the dungeon is where the baddest monsters live," Ramirez said nervously, feeling a little apprehensive. How far beneath the surface, were they actually?

As they got out of the elevator, the pair realized that two of the three men waiting below were officers - senior officers. Mario's eyes went wide as he saw the two stars on the bald man's shoulders and the eagles on the collar of the other. The third man, judging by the lack of insignia, appeared to be an airman. Although, he didn't see very military with his owlish glasses and longish hair, he appeared to be comfortable in the presence of the two senior officers.

The three men got into the elevator without comment and the two soldiers heaved a sigh of relief. It was a little intimidating to see the Base General and a senior-level Colonel (he had to be an important guy, right? He hung out with the General) on your first day. "Shit." Jones breathed. "Don't they give officers their own elevator or something?"

"Guess not," Mario replied, watching the door close behind the three men. "Okay, I think we go this way." He continued looking at the handy map on the back of his work order. The place was like a maze with identical corridors going all over, many marked with painted lines on the floors. The corridors were rounded and low, which made the gray-painted walls made them seem even more cramped. They checked door designations, but it didn't seem to help. Soon they were hopelessly lost.

"Well, shit," Stan said needlessly. Suddenly a red light blared, and a siren went off.

"Unscheduled offworld activation!" A door they had just passed popped open and a half a dozen guys poured out, armed to the teeth and running down the corridor towards another large set of double doors.. Everyone stood aside to allow them passage, except for a blond woman wearing the rank insignia of a Captain who ran past in the same direction and turned to dash up the stairs just outside the double doors.

Stan and Mario watched her go - both men wondering if they would have had a shot at the gorgeous blonde if she wasn't an officer. Stan looked at his watch and nudged his new companion, his eyes on the big set of double doors. "We've got a few minutes..."

Mario nodded. He was eager to get a look at this crazy gate thing too. They followed along in time to see the last triangle thing light up and go clunk, and then there was a giant whoosh, like a whole bank of toilets flushing. The Stargate gushed something that looked like, but wasn't quite water, and then settled into a calm vertical pool of shimmering blue. On one side of the room, there appeared to be a gigantic gold coffin.

The security team was already crouched at the foot of the ramp, taut with readiness, weapons pointed at the gate. After what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few seconds, the tension was broken by a voice came over the intercom. "It's SG-8. Security team, hold your position, they're coming in hot." Mario and Stan watched in fascination as one man dragged the limp form of another out of the shimmering pool. Two more stumbled out backwards, weapons still pointed at the gate.

'This really isn't Star Trek,' Mario thought to himself, resisting the urge to gape at the image like a schoolboy. Suddenly, a fiery bolt shot out of apparently nowhere and took out a chunk of concrete from the back wall. The vertical shimmering surface popped like a soap bubble and disappeared into wisps of mist. Stan and Mario were shoved aside as a medical team rushed into the gate room.

Stan and Mario looked at one another in awe. Stan recovered first. "Damn."

"No shit," Mario replied equally amazed. "And to think I figured 'gate guard' meant standing in the freezing cold checking IDs."

"I think this is way better than that," Stan replied solemnly. Mario could only nod in agreement.

They (eventually) found the ready room by the simple expedient of following the security team back when they returned and reported to Sergeant Harrison. They got kitted out and ran through the SOPs of the job. The Sergeant apparently thought they were idiots, as he made them demonstrate that they had indeed remembered which end of the gun the bullets went in. The team was nearly finished when someone entered the room. The sergeant looked up, surprised.

"Sir!" He stood up, snapping to attention. The squad looked around to see what had caused their sergeant such anxiety. At the door was the two star general, and a very pretty young woman. _Whoa. _ A very pretty woman. She wore a slinky red dress, slitted up the side, low in the front and uh, clinging, everywhere else. _Wasn't that a little chilly? _ Stan wondered. Not to mention completely inappropriate for a military base. Maybe she was someone from the USO?

The general gave them a rather silly smile. _'He seems a bit off', _ Mario thought. "As you were, gentlemen," the general said smoothly. "I'm just giving Miss Hathor a tour of the base."

"So these are the brave men who keep this place safe," she purred, moving closer to the men..

Mario's first thought was that if ever there was a girl who was trouble, this lady was it. Inexplicably, the thought was completely forgotten as he lost himself in her lustrous eyes. Was she wearing some kind of new perfume..? Mario found himself moving towards her, wanting to get as close as he could. Just when he thought he'd get the chance to _touch_ the lovely Ms. Hathor, the general brushed him and the other soldiers aside. Confused, he returned to his duties, guarding Miss Hathor's base.

It was strange though. Here he was _completely_ ignoring the standard procedures. The same standard procedures they had just been briefed on. How weird was that? Mario thought about it for a moment; knowing that something just wasn't right. He considered doing something more and then - the thought completely left his mind. Mario mentally shrugged. If the sergeant wasn't worried, well, neither was Mario. In fact, Mario was beginning to change his mind about how boring this assignment was going to be. Guarding the SGC was fun! And the women around here were _hot_! Well, at least **one** woman was. Man, this was nuts -- he was about as horny as he'd ever been in his life. With relief, he headed for the locker room with the rest of his squad. Stan saw him shifting uncomfortably and shook his head in sympathy. "You too?"

"Yeah," Mario admitted. "Biggest damn boner of my life! God, I haven't even had time to find a girl in this town..." His voice trailed off as he contemplated his misery. "Want to check out a few bars after work?"

"Damn, that sounds good," Stan agreed, contemplating the pros and cons of taking a cold shower in the middle of his shift. He knew it just wasn't normal to be this horny at work. Not when you're military and work for an ultra top-secret organization.

In the locker room, they found Ms. Hathor sitting in a bathtub full of snakes. Mario would have thought the whole thing gross if she wasn't the sexiest, most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. Shit! If he thought he was hard before! The bird colonel and the general were standing in front of her, facing four military women (including that blonde captain) and a huge black guy with guns.

Guns pointed at Ms. Hathor.

"Is this any way to treat a guest, Captain?" the colonel said amiably to the blond woman. Mario was instantly compelled to protect the gorgeous woman in the bathtub (although a small part of his mind did wonder what she was doing submerged in a whirlpool tub on a military base). He willingly drew his gun and joined Hathor's defenders at her signal. As Harrison motioned them forward, they came up behind the women, surprising them. Everything was going quite well, until it went to hell in a hand basket.

Mario suddenly found himself angry; angry at that blonde captain bitch and that midget doctor broad. Together, they took the women's weapons and locked them in a holding chamber. The squad was quickly briefed, and ordered to stay put and guard them. Mario absently wondered who was manning the gate, but obviously keeping an eye on these women who wanted to hurt Hathor was _way_ more important.

They hadn't been standing there long before they heard one of the women call out, "Airman, open up! We've got something for you."

"What?" Stan asked.

The woman replied, "Why don't you come in here and see for yourself?"

Mario rolled his eyes and wondered just how stupid these women thought the guards were.

"No can do. We only take orders from Hathor," Stan answered.

The - really rather attractive- voice came again. "Gentlemen, there are five women in here, very alone."

Mario felt his defenses weakening. "They aren't Hathor-"

"But they _are_ pretty hot-" Stan said, still "smarting" from his attraction.

"And we _are_ armed." Mario pointed out, tapping his weapon.

Stan shrugged, "What could it hurt?" He reached for the keys and unlocked the door.

As they came in, the tall one with the great breasts shrugged off her jacket and tossed it on the bed.

Stan asked, "What are you suggesting ladies?"

The curvaceous redhead purred, "Whatever you want, Airman-"

Stan moved over to the woman and she kissed him enthusiastically. Mario followed him in, licking his lips and looking at the the tall brunette's breasts, conveniently just below his eye level. He'd always liked tall women. She smiled alluringly right back. The blonde captain reached over and turned his face toward her, hand softly cupping his cheek. _ 'Ooh, baby,'_ he thought. Mario was concentrating so hard (no pun intended) on the brunette, that he was completely unprepared for the hard elbow that smacked him in the face. Instantly the lights went out.

Stan heard a muffled thump behind him, but was too absorbed in his kiss with the red head to give it much thought. Suddenly, hands grabbed his shoulders and he was off-balance. The last thing he thought before slamming against the wall was how this had to have been the strangest first day _ever_.

* * *

Mario came to with a groan and a horrible pain in the center of his face. "Ow." He opened his eyes to see that he was lying on a cement floor and his hands bound with plastic ties. While his current predicament was unfortunate (and more than a little uncomfortable), what Mario really wanted to know was what had happened to Ms. Hathor. He spent several moments trying to recall where she had ended up, before he gave up and took stock of his situation. 

He turned and saw Stan lying silently on the floor beside him - he was out cold. Mario dragged himself up, and realized that there were two other men in the room with him, also unconscious. The first was one of the other guards on Harrison's squad. The second was.., Mario paled. The second was the older balding man with two stars on his collar. _Oh, shit. The general. _ Fumbling awkwardly with his bound hands, he checked Stan's pulse and then those of the other men. He breathed a sigh of relief; all were strong and steady. He climbed to his feet and checked the door. Naturally, it was locked. "Shit." Mario sat down on one of the metal bunks and wondered if this job came with hazard pay.

After a few minutes, Stan moaned piteously and cracked open his eyes. Instantly the bright glare caused him to gag and he only had enough time to turn away from the bunk before puking on the floor. "You'll be all right, man," Mario said awkwardly as he made sure Stan wasn't going to choke to death. "Fucking weird day, man," he muttered to himself as he sat back down opposite his new friend. Ever so slowly, Stan managed first to open his eyes and then to sit up.

"What happened?" He asked, trying to ignore the rancid taste in his mouth. Mario pointed to his left and Stan's eyes widened as he took in the still figure of the general on the bed opposite. "Is that who I think it is?"

Mario looked at him morosely. "Yep. And we're so screwed," he replied, carefully filling a cup and carrying it to Stan.

"Huh?" Stan wasn't yet firing on all four cylinders. He accepted the water gratefully and looked at Mario for clarification.

"I think we tried to hit on an officer," Mario explained. Hitting on an officer was _definitely_ looked down upon in the military.

"What about Hathor?" Stan asked, still feeling something rather, er, primal for the beautiful red-haired woman.

Right now, Mario couldn't recall why obeying Hathor had seemed like such a keen idea. "I'm thinking she was like some kind of supervillain. You know like in a comic."

"Oh." Stan replied weakly, the reality of the situation finding sinking in. "Does that mean we're not going to get court-martialed?"

"I wouldn't rule it out."

His only answer was Stan leaning over to spew again.

* * *

It nearly an hour before Harrison and the medical team came and let them out. They were brushed aside as the still-unconscious general and the other guard were loaded on stretchers. Harrison turned to the two conscious soldiers. Mario and Stan straightened to attention and tried with little success to straighten their rather rumpled uniforms. "Sergeant Harrison," Mario began and then stopped, having no idea what to say. 

Harrison looked them over critically. "All personnel are to report to the infirmary to be cleared before they go off duty," he told them.

"Infirmary?" Stan asked weakly.

Harrison gave him a shrewd look. "You look like you could use it, Jones."

"He hit his head, Sergeant," Mario informed him.

"Tell that to the nurses, they'll move him to the front of the line," the sergeant instructed.

"Uh, Sarge?" Mario asked as the man turned away.

"What?"

"Are we, uh, in a lot of trouble?" He tried to meet the sergeant's eyes, but ended up checking out his boots instead.

He watched in fascination as a slow tide of red crept up Harrison's neck. "No, Airman. As I understand it, all the weird shit that went down is being written off to alien influence."

"Oh," Mario was greatly relieved. As Harrison left, he took Stan's arm and helped his dizzy teammate to navigate to the infirmary.

"I can't believe we're not going to get in trouble for that," Stan said. "I mean, we shoulda been _so_ screwed. Well, not screwed..." he paused blushing. "You know what I mean."

Mario turned to see the doctor coming toward him. She had a clipboard tucked under her arm. "Uh, Stan?"

"What?"

Mario looked desperately around to see if there were any other doctors or nurses near by. "Don't look now, but I think we're so screwed."

Stan turned to see a familiar auburn-haired woman advancing purposefully toward them. There was a sling supporting her left arm, but she ignored it, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. He blanched. "Well, shit."

* * *

To be continued... 

Redbyrd's website: www (dot) mindspring (dot) com (slash) redbyrd (slash) index (dot) htm (it's worth filling in the blanks in your browser - so go check it out!) We have the second part already written, I'll try and post in the next few days.

Oh yeah. And a Barista is in the very near future. ;)

DISCLAIMER:  
The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the authors. 


	2. A Colonel, an Archeologist and a Jaffa

Footsoldiers Part 2: A Colonel, an Archeologist and a Jaffa Walk Into a Bar...

**Title:** A Colonel, an Archeologist and a Jaffa Walk Into a Bar...  
**Authors**: Redbyrd and dietcokechic  
**Email:** redbyrd (at) mindspring (dot) com , dietcokechic (at) hotmail (dot) com  
**Rating:** PG-13 (language, gestures)  
**Category:** humor  
**Spoiler:** 0113 - Hathor  
**  
Summary:** After surviving their first SGC crisis, Mario and Stan head out for a much needed drink..

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"Well, that was interesting," Stan said, as he unbuttoned his fatigues and pulled on a clean white tee-shirt.

"You call being quarantined with seventy-three other men, interesting?" Mario scoffed as he vigorously toweled his hair. Stan might not have wanted a shower, but he sure as hell did.

"Well, you haffta admit, we sure did pick up a lot of SGC gossip." Stan remarked. It had been quite interesting being a proverbial fly on the wall surrounded by seasoned Stargate Command personnel. After they had cleaned up after Hathor, the chaotic logistics of getting everyone (well the men anyhow) quarantined had commenced. The base was too small to have completely separate quarantine quarters, so the officers and enlisted men had to share communal facilities like the showers and mess hall. Oh, the officers still had separate bunks, but with eight to a room, the guys needed to blow off steam every now and then..Anyone who wanted to could head to the gym to spar or what have you.

There were quite a few men who felt the need to beat the living shit out of things.

"I'm just thankful we didn't have to stay in here longer than 48 hours."

"So..," Stan asked casually, looking at his friend with twinkling eyes, "did you get her phone number?" Mario visibly stiffened and looked around the locker room to see who else might be listening.

"Keep your damn voice down!" Mario replied. "You never know who might be listening..." Stan laughed.

"Mario, my man - the whole damn base knows about how she watched Captain Carter knock your lights out!"

"Hey, at least I didn't kiss the base's **doctor**!" Mario replied hotly. Stan paled at the memory. Oh, the _memory_ of the kiss was just fine, but not only was he married (happily he might add) but the woman he kissed just happen to have a wide array of needles and assorted medical devices as her disposal. Stan shuddered remembering how she snapped on those gloves to examine him. Luckily, it had mostly been to scare him - turns out you really do need two hands to do a medical examination.

"Are you done yet?" Mario asked, desperate to get out of there.

"Done!" Stan replied, tying his shoe and standing up. "Where to?"

"I know the perfect place."

_"This_ is your perfect place?" Stan asked dubiously as he took in the smoky ambience of the bar.

"Yup," Mario confirmed, holding up two fingers to indicate to the bartender that he needed two beers. He was way too thirsty to be picky. Oh sure, Colorado Springs had its share of new-agey "brew-pubs" like those in Boulder and Denver, but this place specialized in good ol American brews: Budweiser, Coors, and Michelob.

"It's a little..." Stan paused searching for the perfect word. "-seedy, isn't it?"

Mario scoffed. "Mano," we totally need seedy after the last couple of days."

The beer arrived and wordlessly the two men held up their glasses in recognition of surviving their first few days. Each drained nearly half the glass before setting it down on the bar.

"Best damn beer I've ever had," Mario declared reverently.

"Amen to that," Stan agreed, raising his glass in tribute. They sat for several minutes in companionable silence watching the "normal" people eat and drink.

"It's pretty crazy, isn't it?" Mario said after a few minutes.

"Yeah," Stan said nodding. Both knew what the other was talking about -their crazy ass jobs. I mean, here they were, downing a couple of brewskis after work like any old guys, while they spent their days on the front line of a war none of these people knew about.

"Figured out what you're going to tell Margie yet?" Mario asked. He knew Stan had been beating himself up over kissing Frasier, not to mention completely forgetting he had a wife, and then to call home and say he needed to stay at work for another three days-well, it sure sounded like a weak-ass excuse.

"The truth," Stan said with a sigh.

"The what!" Mario shouted, nearly spraying his friend with Bud. Stan burst out laughing at the look on Mario's face.

"Not _that_ much truth, idiot!" He shook his head and ordered two more beers. "I called on Wednesday and told her that bullshit excuse about a chemical leak that all of us had to use. If she asks for details, I'll just tell her that my new job is secretive as all get out, but that I love her to pieces and would she please come over and allow me to take all her clothes off?" Now it was Mario's turn to laugh.

"And that works?" he asked skeptically.

"Married life rocks, man," Stan affirmed with a nod. He knew he'd be getting lucky that night.

"Quit rubbing it in," Mario said morosely. "Tonight it's just going to be me and my.." his voice trailed off as he saw who just walked through the front door.

Stan followed his gaze. "Hey, isn't that-uh," he looked around to make sure that there wasn't anyone within earshot and lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper, _"the alien?1"_ The enormous guy was wearing a hat covering his bald head and tattoo, and he towered over his shorter comrades.

"And Colonel O'Neill," Mario said, pulling a little further back into the shadows.

"And whatsisname, Dr., uh, Jackson," Stan added. "I wonder what they're doing here?"

"Getting a drink," Mario said. They watched O'Neill say something to Jackson and then he and the huge alien dude went over to the bar, while Jackson came toward them, looking for a table.

"I heard he actually, uh, you know, with Hathor," Stan said, making rather obscene hand gestures while looking at the shabbily dressed civilian. They watched him pull out chair at an empty table in the back and sit down, elbows on the table, shoulders slumped. He picked up a salt shaker from the center of the table and turned it around in his hand.

"He sure doesn't look like a guy who got laid," Mario said, eyeing the miserable looking doctor. He stared off into space and looked for all the world like he wished he were somewhere else.

Stan frowned as one of the guys from the pool table approached the oblivious civilian. He nudged Mario and pointed, "I don't like the look of that guy."

The tough-looking man in the plaid shirt had the look of a truck driver. "Hey, asshole," he said, jostling Jackson hard.

"Whaa-?" The guy looked up with a mildly puzzled expression.

"You gonna hog that whole table by yourself when you ain't even drinking?"

"I'm saving it for my friends," Jackson explained politely, with an explanatory wave in the direction of the bar.

Two more guys came up carrying glasses of beer. "Ooh, he's _saving_ it for his _friends_," one of them repeated. The others laughed like he said something funny.

"There's plenty of space," Jackson said mildly.

"I like this one," the guy said. He jerked a thumb at the seated man. "Move it."

"Uh, oh," Mario said, observing the rapidly deteriorating situation.

"He'll move," Stan insisted. "He's just a civvie, after all."

"Actually, mano, I don't think so," Mario told him. He could see Jackson's face, and he was wearing an expression that could only be described as mulish. He guessed after being screwed (both figuratively and actually) by Hathor, he really wasn't in the mood to get pushed around.

The other men circled him, and a couple of the more alert bystanders backed off to give them space. "You think we should do something?" Stan asked uneasily.

"Not unless they've got another three or four guys in reserve," Mario said as he looked toward the bar. Mario had never seen anyone move as quick or as quiet as the alien. One minute the trucker was reaching for Jackson's collar, the next minute he was being yanked off his feet by the massive arm that snaked around his throat. The buddy that started to come to his defense, suddenly mashed his face into the table as O'Neill appeared behind him, twisting his arm up into a particularly painful lock.

Jackson hadn't moved. "My friends," he repeated in a calm voice, looking at the first bully. "Why don't you try another table?"

"You do not wish me to break this one's neck, DanielJackson?" Teal'c enquired, sounding disappointed.

"No, Teal'c," O'Neill said. "He's about to go find somewhere else to sit. Right?" 'Right' was not said in the kindest of ways.

The first guy looked past his two friends and made eye contact with another group of guys at the bar. Guys who apparently liked steroids just as much as beer.

"Uh oh," Stan said quietly. "I think the odds just changed." They watched as three more stood up and walked casually over to where Dr. Jackson sat.

"Should we help now?" Mario asked.

"Let's see what happens," Stan answered. There was no way they were going to let any of "their" guys get pummeled, but after hearing just a couple SG-1 stories, Stan kinda wondered if these guys would actually need any help.

"You really don't want to do this," O'Neill said shaking his head as the three new men joined the scene. "You see, we just had a _really_ bad couple of days...,"

"Some worse than others," Jackson added morosely.

"Exactly," O'Neill said acknowledging his academic, before turning back towards the thugs. "_Really_ bad couple of days, and you really don't want to piss us off."

"I am already 'pissed off' O'Neill," the alien said menacingly, as he took a step closer to the guy who had first threatened Jackson.

"You know, if these guys even knew a fraction of what we did, they'd be shaking in their boots right now," Stan whispered.

"You got that right," Mario said nodding.

"See, you don't want to get Teal'c mad at you, it really isn't a whole lot of fun," O'Neill said matter-of-factly.

"We outnumber you," the main thug said.

"Oooh, you can count!" Jackson replied, standing up from where he was sitting. Guess he was tired of being the only man sitting.

"Daniel, you stole my line!" O'Neill said with a smile.

"It was bound to happen sometime, Jack." SG-1 might be having fun, but the tension in the bar was palatable. Most of the patrons had stopped talking in order to watch the live entertainment. Next to them, Mario heard one guy murmur, "Ten bucks on the big black guy."

Before anything more could happen, a short guy came running out of a door that Stan swore was just a closet and started shouting, "No fighting, no fighting!"

"We're not fighting," O'Neill said casually.

"Yet," Jackson added.

"T' and I have it, Daniel," O'Neill said as the short guy tried to reason with the six thugs.

"I'm perfectly capable of pulling a punch, Jack!" Jackson said petulantly.

"Pulling a punch' means holding back, Daniel. I don't think that's what you want to do in this case. You remember what I told you about blocking?"

"You know what I mean!" Daniel cried, obviously distressed. 'Poor kid', Stan observed. He seriously needed to kick some ass.

"Daniel, two weeks ago you were declared dead, and this week hasn't exactly started out so well, so why don't you let Teal'c and I handle it?" O'Neill sounded so reasonable when he put it that way.

"Well, we ain't leaving if they aren't!" Thug number one declared.

"You'll either leave, or I'll call the police," the short guy said authoritatively.

"I think he's serious," Stan said, taking another drink of his beer. In the background, people were starting to talk again. It looked like there would be no fight today.

"I think you're right."

"Still, it would be cool to see the Jaffa kick some ass."

"Shhh!" Mario hissed. "You can't say things like that here."

"Right," Stan hummphed, "like anyone is paying us any attention what so ever." Mario had to admit the guy was right.

"Still.." He ordered two more beers and turned back to see how O'Neill and Jackson were doing. Apparently the short guy had convinced the bullies, and the six guys were leaving. Grudgingly..

"And don't you dare hang around outside!" he called after them. "I won't stand for that kind of crap in my bar!"

"I knew I liked this place," O'Neill said as he sat down at **their** table.

"Does this often happen, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked seriously.

"Have you ever seen him smile?" Mario asked.

"The Jaffa?" Stan asked.

"Would you cut that out!"

"No, I haven't seen Teal'c the Alien from Chulak smile," Stan said. Smiling.

"We're so dead," Mario said, certain O'Neill and the others had heard.

"Well, that was fun," O'Neill said finally as he picked up his beer.

Jackson gave him an impatient look. "That was fun? You don't think that was a little childish, Jack?"

"Hey, we didn't start it," O'Neill said. "Even the owner recognized that it wasn't our fault."

"We could have taken them," Jackson said darkly, finishing his drink in one long gulp and holding up his hand to indicate that he wanted another.

"Next time, Daniel," O'Neill conceded. "You can beat up the bad bullies _next_ time."

Mario snickered into his beer. "The things the Colonel has to put up with," he said.

"Ah, Jackson is all right," Stan said. "After all, there really aren't too many guys I know who can die one day and show up the next."

"Very true," Mario agreed, nodding. Both realized they were probably saying things they shouldn't, but as Stan had pointed out earlier, who was listening? The drinking and talking continued, until almost all memories of 'what's her name' were erased and the talk turned back towards Senior Airman Teresa Ripley.

"So, you gonna ask her out?" Stan asked interestedly.

Mario winced, "Maybe next week, mano. When the first impression has had time to fade a little."

"I don't think she'll have forgotten you by next week," Stan said helpfully, taking another swallow of the current beer. It belatedly occurred to him that after spending three days at work, getting drunk before going home was not necessarily the best strategy.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mario said gloomily. Married guys. They so friggin' gloated.

The pair was several sheets to the wind before finally asking the bartender to call them a cab. Margie was waiting after all and Stan could always come back later for his truck. He was pretty sure a place like this had its share of overnight vehicles. They were just settling their tab when they heard a snippet of conversation coming from O'Neill and his team.

"So what'd you think of the place, T'?" O'Neill said as he stood up and looped one of Jackson's arms around his shoulders. Jackson muttered something in a weird language but didn't fall over.

"Lightweight," Stan snickered.

"The 'Guinness' was satisfactory," Teal'c declared magnanimously. "But I did not care for 'The Bud'."

"It's just 'Bud', T'," O'Neill explained as he threw several bills on the table and helped Jackson to the door.

"I thought 'Bud' was what two warriors said in greeting?"

"T', we have got to get you a colloquial dictionary," O'Neill muttered, as he awkwardly maneuvered Jackson through the door. He never saw Teal'c's eyebrow go up at the word 'colloquial'.

"Indeed," Teal'c answered following the men out.

"I wanna learn to do the eyebrow thing!" Mario said tipsily, as he headed towards the door.

"I'll give you five bucks if you do it in front of the Jaffa!"

"No fucking way, man," Mario said as they exited the building. "I might be drunk, but I do value my life."

* * *

From here on out I can't tell you how often we'll post, but whenever anything new becomes available, I'll put it out here! Don't forget to check out Robin's site: www (dot) mindspring (dot) com (slash) (tilde) redbyrd (slash) index (dot) htm 

(A 'tilde' - is that funny looking sideways s thingy used a lot in Spanish)


	3. Aliens Got My Gun, Sir

TITLE: Footsoldiers Part 3: "Aliens got my gun, sir."  
AUTHOR: Redbyrd and dietcokechic  
EMAIL: redbyrd (at) mindspring (dot) com , dietcokechic (at) hotmail (dot) com  
RATING: PG-13 (language)  
CATEGORY: humor, missing scene  
WARNINGS: minor language  
SUMMARY: Another day, another unscheduled offworld activation. Stan, Mario and their squad are ready for anything. Or are they?  
SPOILERS: Enigma  
-----------------------------------------

"Morning, Stan," Mario said as he opened his locker and began taking out the uniform he would be wearing for the next twelve hours.

"Morning, Mario," Stan replied conversationally, looking up from his boots. "You ready?"

"I still can't get over this assignment," Stan remarked, shaking his head. "Working at Stargate Command has to be the damnedest posting I've ever had. I mean, usually when you're doing sentry duty, you're freezing your ass off in a guard shack somewhere."

Mario snorted. "Yeah, and the most excitement you ever have is some jerk forgetting his badge and threatening to have your job if you don't let him in anyway." They both grinned at the comment. There wasn't an enlisted man in the world that didn't have to go through shit like that. "Here, we get all the excitement of never knowing what the hell is coming in next."

"And the coffee," his friend reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Mario confirmed nodding his head vigorously up and down. "An endless supply of government issue coffee."

"I hear they're testing it as a new secret weapon for dissolving the hulls of alien spaceships."

"I still think this is a fucking dream, man." Mario said shaking his head as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"That big metal donut out there says otherwise." Stan answered, not sounding all the sure himself. He finished tying his laces and stood up.

"You better hurry up, if you want breakfast before reporting on duty." Stan said frowning slightly as he observed his friend still dressed in skivvies.

"You worry too much Jones."

"You don't worry _enough, _ Ramirez."

Breakfast was still the same steam table mush as always, but Mario was happy to see that at least they had waffles. "I don't know why they have these so often," Stan said, taking a double serving. "My last posting it was once a week, and man, I never missed 'em."

"Dr. Jackson likes them," Mario explained.

Stan squinted at him. "Since when do you notice what people eat?"

"Since never. I said something about it to Tessa, and she says the kitchen staff has a soft spot for him. He likes waffles, so they're a regular on the menu. I betcha it has something to do with his deciphering the Stargate and all that."

Stan nodded thoughtfully. Yeah, it was probably something like that. However, Stan was more interested in the first part of Mario's comments. "Oho. _Tessa _says, does she?" Stan grinned. Mario'd been screwing up his nerve to ask Senior Airman Teresa Ripley out for oh, three weeks at least. "Progress, my man. So does she have a crush on him? Or the colonel? Half the women on the base seem to."

The colonel of course was Colonel Jack O'Neill. Other colonels were referred to by name, but if you said 'the colonel' at the SGC, it was O'Neill you were talking about. "I don't think so," Mario said. "But I notice she does look twice when Teal'c is in the gym."

Stan blinked. "And who doesn't?" He poured more syrup over the desirable waffles. "So is _Tessa _going out with you?"

Mario grinned. "Dinner and a movie tonight. Assuming there's no alien invasion of course."

"And how far do you think you're gonna get?"

"A gentleman never tells, Stan my man. A gentleman never tells."

A pause. "So, how far do you think you're going to get?"

Mario threw a half a bagel at him (fortunately for Stan, the one without cream cheese) and grinned. It was going to be a _fine_ day.

You got used to the noise, the run to the gateroom knowing combat could be seconds away. But no matter how many times it happened, that first half-second of howling adrenaline that hit when the alarm went off made the hair stand up on the back of his neck every time.

"Attention, all personnel. Off world activation. Unknown source," a voice called loudly from the multiple speakers in the Ready Room. Whereas the rest of the SGC could get away with just one speaker per corridor, the Ready Room seemed to need three.

"Man," Stan muttered under his breath as he threw down his cards and picked up his MP-5. "I had a damn full house too!" Effortlessly, he fell into formation with the other five men and women of his unit.

"Repeat, unscheduled off-world activation!"

"I heard you the first time, Walt." Mario murmured behind his friend. Together, the Ready Team burst into the gate room.

The Stargate was turning, chevrons lighting up and clunking. They were startled to see Dr. Jackson and the big alien Teal'c already there, standing calmly in front of the gate, with the aliens SG-1'd rescued a few days ago standing in a cluster with them. Stan could hear the sergeant muttering under his breath. "Ohshitohshitohshit, this is going to be one of the weird ones, I can feel it."

Without warning, the blast doors started to roll up. "That's weird," Mario muttered, "why were they down?" Before anyone could comment, a voice was heard over the loudspeaker.

"Doctor Jackson, this is Colonel Maybourne. What you're doing is a court-martialable offence, " a voice bellowed loudly from the control room.

Stan's brow wrinkled in thought. "They can't court-martial civilians, can they?" He was pretty certain they couldn't. Oh, they could still be arrested, fired, hell, even fired through wormholes at the speed of light...but not court-martialed.

Mario let out a smothered chuckle as the collective brain trust in the control room appeared to figure that out as well. Jackson however, was completely ignoring Maybourne's threats, his gaze fixed on the gate. The unfamiliar colonel's voice resumed, "I'll have you removed from this program forever if you do this. " Do what? Mario wondered. The gate was being activated from offworld. If he understood this right, Jackson couldn't be doing anything.

Suddenly, the gate opened with a kawhoosh. "Hey, aren't we supposed to have a protective iris?" Stan muttered, taking a firmer grip on his gun. The military spent millions building a supposedly impenetrable shield, and now the damn thing doesn't work!

Mario shook his head and tightened the grip on his weapon, his eyes firmly fixed on the wide open Stargate. Just when he had determined that this must just be one gigantic drill, a woman materialized serenely though the gate and walked calmly down the ramp. She looked like a little like a woodland elf, or maybe his ex-wife having a bad hair day. Mario tamped down on the urge to smile. Although Mario knew he might be wrong, he felt pretty certain this lady wasn't one of those Goa'uld sorts he had been briefed about. Oh, he remembered Ms. Hathor just fine, thank you.

The woman smiled warmly at Dr. Jackson. Man! What was it with that scientific geek and alien chicks? Rumor had he was actually married to one. And that Hathor lady had been all over him. Damn. He really didn't want his thoughts to keep coming back to _her_.

Big hair chick said hello to Jackson as he ran up the ramp and gave her a shy smile. "I thought those only worked in chick flicks," Stan murmured. They watched in disbelief as the woman smiled back at him like she was Jackson's own 100-pound Christmas present.

"Hello, Lya." Well the good news was that apparently she wasn't a stranger. To Jackson anyhow. Mario's grip on his weapon slackened just an infinitesimal bit as he felt that everything was going to be all right.

He really should stop trusting those feelings..

"All personnel in the gate room," Colonel Moron ordered into the intercom. What the hell was that bozo still doing here anyhow? "This is Colonel Maybourne. I have a Presidential order to take the aliens with me. Do not let them pass. Use force if necessary. "

Shit! Now what were they supposed to do? The guy might be a douche bag, but he was _Colonel_ Douche Bag and if Mario and Stan wanted to keep their jobs, they really needed to follow his orders. Virtually all the members of the Ready Team looked to their CO for direction. The sergeant reluctantly raised his weapon and pointed it at the strangely dressed woman.

Who promptly ignored them completely. This really didn't do a hell of a lot for Stan's confidence. Everyone knew that all these alien chicks had superpowers, and he wasn't really hoping to find out what nasty power _she_ had. After the Hathor thing (dammit, would the memory of that snakehead ever leave him alone?), Stan had taken to keeping an extra pair of earplugs in his fatigue pockets. Not that he would ever really _know_ if the base had been compromised until it was too late- still it made him feel better.

The alien woman had taken her eyes off of the soldiers surrounding her and was talking earnestly to Jackson. "Your race has learned nothing."

Jackson didn't even try to contradict her. _'Ah, come on man!'_ Mario thought. _'Show a little backbone for the home team!'_ After a brief pause, she continued. "But **you** have." She gave him a sweet smile. "The Tollans are most welcome to join the Nox. Please come."

Come? Hold on a second here! The aliens- the Tollans, apparently- started walking up the ramp leading up to the Stargate. Hold on a sec.. was that a cat in that guy's arms! Stan found all of this completely fascinating and really wished he could tell his wife about what he really did for a living. Mario on the other hand, wished they'd hurry things along. He really had to pee.

Colonel Cranky however, obviously wasn't quite ready to call it a day. "Stop! Take one more step and I'll be forced to have them open fire." Stan sighed. _ 'Way to use us as ground fodder man!' _ he thought.

The woman shook her head with a look of disappointment, and then raised her hands. Instantly, the gate sparkled a deep blue with a perfectly-formed event horizon. No chevrons, no Walter announcing the chevron, and definitely no kawhoosh. How can you have an event horizon without a kawhoosh? The sergeant was audibly gasping - no matter how many times they had the, 'weird shit happens in this place' lecture; it always amazed them. "Superpowers", Stan muttered, nodding sagely. Having understood the silent signal, the Gate squad reluctantly pointed their weapons in her direction.

"Come," Lya offered, gesturing at the mingling Tollan around her. Without a word, the Tollan started disappearing by twos and threes. No sound, no gestures, just vanishing soundlessly as if they had never been. Mario's mouth fell open in slack-jawed amazement.

Okay, that was weird, even for the SGC.

It was all the cranky colonel could do to keep from foaming at his mouth. "Fire! Fire!" he screamed over the microphone. Before Stan or Mario could even lift up their hands in defense (not that it was clear whether they _would_ have actually fired), their weapons vanished. In fact, all of the gate squad's weapons vanished. They stood there, looking at their suddenly empty hands in stunned silence.

_'Shit!'_ Stan thought, _'if I'm going to have to pay for that, I'm going to be pissed!'_ Automatic weapons were not cheap. He wondered how much trouble they were going to be in if the guns weren't eventually located. Although several front-line SG teams seemed to lose **their** weapons on nearly a weekly basis, his squad _never_ lost theirs. They were responsible for checking them out at the start of the day and checking them back in before they left the base. How the hell were they supposed to check back in air guns? Stan was so wrapped up in the absence of his gun, that he almost missed the pixie-alien lady's disappearing act, as she too vanished through the gate shortly before it disengaged.

The sergeant in charge signaled them to leave the gate room (everyone looking a little naked without his gun), and they filed out just as Colonel O'Neill came down and walked up to his teammate.

"Well he doesn't seem too upset," Mario remarked. "Guess, it can't be all that bad."

"Well, yeah," Stan replied glumly. "He didn't just lose his automatic weapon now, did he? The same weapon that Sergeant Morgan is expecting to get back in three hours."

Mario snorted. "No problem, mano," he replied glibly, already knowing the perfect excuse. We just tell him, 'Aliens stole my gun, sir' and leave it at that."

Stan laughed so hard, he started choking. "We are so dead."

Mario just nodded sagely, "Aliens got my gun, sir," Mario repeated as they rounded the corner and turned into the Ready Room.

* * *

tbc. ;) 

Redbyrd's website: www (dot) mindspring (dot) com (slash) (tilde) redbyrd


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